Who said that jumping on the bandwagon was a bad idea? Sure, you run the danger of catching a ride with something already anointed, but you can always jump right off. My trick? I wait until the bandwagon is almost full and sidle in at the end, like I'd been there all along. "What did I miss? I was, um, in the bathroom."
Considering the swell of early acclaim Yummy House has generated in its first year, my plan was to wait it out. Instead of a bandwagon, though, this exceptional purveyor of Hong Kong cuisine has become a juggernaut on rails, and I'm a little more than fashionably tardy to the party. Better late than never, I guess. All aboard!
Drive by the place, and you likely won't give it a second glance — just another anonymous strip-mall storefront off Armenia with bilingual signage. Step inside and, well, you might think about walking back out. Bare white walls. White plastic tablecloths. Besides the barbecue case hung with mahogany-skinned ducks in postmortem flight and a cooler filled with canned soda, there isn't much to see.
Except, of course, for people eagerly diving into some of the best Chinese food in Tampa. Notice this, and you'll stick around. Join them, and you'll be coming back. Frequently.
Especially for dishes like Yummy's salt-and-pepper tofu, calamari and chicken wings. Chomp into the fried squid ($6.99), and you'll be mildly pleased by the tender meat and simple breading, but the real power is hidden in a mix of cilantro, jalapeno, scallions and salty fried garlic mounded in the middle of the plate. Add a scoop of that and these unassuming little nuggets explode into a pungent blend of crunchy, cooked and fresh.
The same preparation is even better with exquisitely cooked tofu ($5.99) — crisp on the outside and molten creamy inside, ready to take on the powerful flavors of the herb and garlic blend.
Anyone who eats at Yummy House should be required by law to consume at least one portion of the salt-and-pepper tofu. I'll call my county commissioner.
More garlic and herbs cling to strips of moist grouper sautéed until just crisp, with the addition of spicy red chili and the profound punch of dried fish and vinegar that defines XO sauce ($8.95). XO debuted in Hong Kong in the 1980s — a recent culinary invention, by Chinese standards — and was named after an expensive designation of high-end Cognac, to indicate just how chic it's supposed to be. And, at least here at Yummy House, it has an elegance that lives up to the hype.
Egg rolls ($3.99) and pot stickers ($5.99) are a bit above typical Chinese fare, but not much. Still, Yummy manages to add just a hint of welcome expertise to even the most standard dishes. Cashew chicken ($7.50) is glazed in a sauce that conveys a silky hit of chicken broth without being heavy-handed, and there's none of that gelatinous corn-starchy thickness so ubiquitous in lesser restaurants.
Same with fried noodles topped with black pepper beef ($8.95). The edges of the giant tangle of golden noodles are crisp and seasoned, while the center section has absorbed the subdued sauce without becoming sodden. It's a mild, standard dish but expertly accomplished.
Honey pepper scallops ($12) are positively restrained. Hints of sweet and spice dance around the edges of large scallops cooked just past translucent — as fine as those found in any restaurant in Tampa — but never threaten the natural beauty of these fine shellfish.
Those scallops are a prime example of how effectively Yummy can delicately balance flavors, when it's called for. At other times, the kitchen will happily blow out your senses with powerful fried chilies or the spicy vinegar.
The spicy seafood pot ($9.95) has a bit of both the delicate and the ass-kicking. Dangerous dried chiles, bright red, dot the bowl of pale calamari, pink shrimp, gigantic earthy mushrooms and rich broth. Stay away from the attractive dried gems and you'll experience a mild build-up of smoldering heat; dive in and your mouth will be an inferno. Either way, the burbling liquid manages to shoehorn its subtle flavors past the heat.
Seafood is obviously the restaurant's passion, as evidenced by multiple pages devoted to Hong Kong-style preparations of the ocean's bounty, but there is also respect for the other white — and dark — meats. Barbecued ducks dangle appetizingly under the heat lamps of a glass case, crispy beaked heads lolling, meat seasoned with five-spice and infused with rendered fat.
If you want something a little more elegant than strung-up fowl, try the rose wine chicken ($14). It's barbecued just enough to render the skin a rich mahogany, then steamed and plated atop a puddle of sweetly floral syrup. The breast meat is engorged with moisture, like the watermelon equivalent of poultry, a texture the sauce only accentuates.
Bring a crowd to Yummy House and you'll leave with a satisfied tummy and plenty of leftovers for a shockingly small hit to your wallet. Come by yourself and you'll be tempted to order more than you need. Give in to it.
Considering the sheer quantity of Chinese restaurants lining a long stretch of Waters, as well as the sheer lack of quality in most of those joints, maybe you'll forgive me for missing the beginning days of Yummy, for rejecting the early kudos with my nose in the air.
Too bad I can't forgive myself. I missed a solid year of salt-and-pepper tofu and sizzling scallops, exquisite XO and mouthwatering seafood. Forget about propriety; from now on I'll be hopping aboard every bandwagon that comes along, just so I don't miss any more tasty rides.
